Protector
by Metal Flowers
Summary: Fang is there for Iggy, helping him up when he falls down, giving him encouragement, so of course an attraction would build between the two of them. Love comes to light on a simple, ordinary day at the mall. Figgy, set before Nevermore, rated T for language. A Thanksgiving present from me to you.


Cold, wet liquid sloshed all over me as I toppled down the steps, soaking my pale blue shirt. I cringed in mortification as the laughter started, the crude humans finding nothing more hilarious than a blind kid falling down a flight of stairs and spilling his drink all over himself.

"Iggy!" my angel cried out, sounding furious as he rushed over to me. I raised a hand to cover my face, afraid.

Why did life torture me so? My sight painfully taken from me, kidnapped and snuffed out by the silver knives glistening in my blood. Though it may be surprising to someone else, that's the least painful thing that had happened. What, you may ask, could be worse than losing one of your senses?

The answer, my friend, is pity. The close band of family I'd recently developed distanced myself from me, not wanting to put the weight of caring for a mistake on their shoulders. I could hardly blame them. Who wants to associate with a mistake? I'm but a glitch in a computer game, just an error to be corrected.

Still, that wasn't the worst thing. Maybe the worst moment in my life would have been when I fell in love with my best friend. Maybe the worst moment in my life would have been when Nudge went on a tirade of how gay guys were so _sensitive_ and how she would love to have one as a friend, and I could only sit there in awkward silence.

No, today, right now, has to be the worst moment of my life. I just wanted to rewind the whole day and start anew. Maybe if I thought hard enough, I'd develop a new power. It was my turn to get a super power, wasn't it? It should be.

Let's see, I think this started at the food court. No, it was before that. The department store? No, before that, too. Maybe I should try to rewind time so that I'd have never met him in the first place. No, it didn't work. Crap. Maybe my powers were limited. Fine then, it would be when Max first dropped us off here. Maybe if I thought hard enough, I'd be blasted back to the past.

"Here's the money," Max said in a sigh, "It's not much, but Angel's going to help us get some more while you two are getting clothes."

Clothes, I snorted. Why did I even have to come along? It wasn't like I was going to be able to pick anything out.

"Okay," Fang said in aquiescence as he took the money. I heard the change clatter as it dropped into his hand, and the bills crumpled as he folded his hand, holding the money, "Meet us in the food court in an hour."

"Better make it an hour and a half. Angel doesn't work well under pressure," Max laughed, sounding tired. I noticed that her heart was beating erratically and her breath was hitching abnormally. Either she was sick or nervous from Fang's presence. Probably the latter, I thought sourly, "And go ahead and eat while you're there."

"See you," Fang's voice was smooth as he started to walk towards the mall's entrance. I muttered a hurried goodbye to Max before clumsily tailing Fang. I didn't like parking lots. There were too many places for Erasers to hide, to many sounds to sort through, and a really high chance of being hit by a car.

Still, a whole hour alone with Fang. I was looking forward to it, amazingly. I hated the noisy, echoing space that was called a mall, and Fang was too quiet for me to track him well.

Fang was as conciderate as he was capable of as we walked through the halls. As he walked, his hand brushed against the sides of his jeans, creating a brushing sound that I could follow.

"Thanks," I said softly, hoping that he'd know what I meant.

He did, of course. Fang never needed explanations, "Family takes care of family."

Of course. That's what we were. Family. Of course he wasn't doing it specifically for me. He would've done this for anyone.

The music overhead shifted into some girly pop song with the repeated phrase 'Call me Maybe' and I shivered. Pop seemed so mainstream now. No song or artist ever lasted long.

"What?" the amusement was evident in Fang's smooth-as-honey voice, "Don't you just love this song?"

"Someone should just call her and get it over with," I remarked dryly, "Now did we come here to shop or talk about pop culture?"

"We could do a little bit of both," Fang said and I heard him shrug his shoulders. What was this? Was _Fang_ saying that he wanted to chat? My ears must have decieved me. I laughed and I felt his glare on me, no doubt he knew the reason behind it. He always saw through me.

I heard the screech of metal on metal and the bounce of plastic against plastic, so I guessed that Fang had started to look for clothes. They were probably for me, since Fang didn't shop in popular department stores. He always chose to shop in Hot Topic. I didn't see anything wrong with the clothes in these stores, but of course, I didn't see anything, so my opinion wasn't very useful.

"Here," Fang pressed a hanger laden with shirt to my chest. I clutched the shirt with my hands and he let go of it. As I ran my thumb over it, I registered the very few things that could describe the shirt. It was cotton, decorated with a small plaid pattern, and the only colors composing it were white and a light blue.

"Where's the dressing room?" I asked as he then handed me a pair of jeans. I expected him to give me short directions, but surprisingly he took me by the hand and started to lead me through the store. My cheeks filled with blush at the sudden contact, and I prayed that it wasn't too noticeable.

"This way," he mumbled, sounding embarrased. I would be embarassed too if I had to tote around a blind kid, but I wasn't complaining. Fang's hand was very warm.

There was a shrill _beep beep_ as we entered the dressing room and Fang pushed me inside the dressing room. Before I could register that his hand left mine, their was the thud of the door against the frame.

"Stupid," Fang grumbled to himself, "Stupid."

My cheeks flamed with shame. This situation really was stupid, wasn't it?

I stripped off my pants first and sat down on the small seat in the middle of the dressing room, feeling along the rough denim of the new jeans to find the top. I quickly shoved my legs through the pants and stood up. They fit loosely, which was fine.

Next, the shirt. I hated shirts. Shirts were a terror to put on. I sighed as I tried on the shirt, and grimaced when I realized that none of the buttons were buttoned up. Of all shirts to give me...

My fingers fumbled along the buttons, trying to connect them. While one hand held the buttons, another searched for their holes. I hated button down shirts. They were so troublesome.

After three tries to put it on correctly, I unlocked the dressing room door and faced where Fang must be. He was silent, so I wasn't exactly sure where he was, "Fang? I need help."

"Of course," his voice said to my right, sounding strangled. I turned towards him, my face still burning. I gestured to my half buttoned shirt. I'd only managed to button it correctly from the bottom to about halfway up. I heard Fang make a strange sound, like an unsettled intake of breath, before he came up close to me. My face burned an even brighter red as his minty cool breath hit my face.

He gently buttoned up my shirt, every so often his fingers would accidently brush against my chest, and I'd stiffen. I was too weak, too unable to care for myself.

"It fits," he informed me then unbutton the top three buttons. He helped me pry the shirt off me, and I disapeared inside the fitting room again to change back into my origional clothes. Fang had dressed and undressed me. This wasn't as fun as I imagined. It was better. Being in his care, imagining that he cared for me enough to trouble himself...it was perfect.

"Crap," I muttered as my shirt caught on my wings. The back bunched up uncomfortably in the back, refusing to go over my wings. A familiar chuckle filled the air as Fang enterd my dressing room.

"I hate when that happens," his voice was soft with sympathy as he took the end of my pale yellow shirt and stretched it over my wings, so that it fell naturally. This happened to everybody?

"Okay, let's go," Fang said as he took the clothes from me and searched for my hand again. He led me to the cashiers, where the sounds of small talk and receipts being printed filled the air.

A feminine voice squealed out, "I can help you over here!"

Fang gave the girl the clothes and paid for it immediately. He refused the free membership, discounts, and no, he didn't want to give any money to charity. I snickered. We were the charity cases, after all.

I followed Fang as we went into a store that was only half the size of a Hallmarks. As the nonmainstream music hit my ears, I guessed that we were in Hot Topic.

"Wait here," Fang whispered and disapeared, which wasn't exactly hard to do with me. I heard him later talking to the cashier.

More beeps from the register occured, then someone took my hand again. Fang, of course. We walked lesisurely to the food court as I obsessed over how warm and smooth Fang's hand was.

Fang bought some lunch for us and we sat down. I bit into whatever he had gotten me, and realized that it was my favorite. It was a CBO sandwich from McDonalds. Did he know that this was my favorite, or was it purely chance? It was probably a coincidence. He didn't pay enough attention to me to know such things.

"I'm going to go change into my clothes," Fang informed me as his chair screeched back, "I'll be back before you finish your sandwich."

"Okay," I gave him a half hearted wave as his footsteps grew lighter, fading away. I took a sip from my Coca cola and finished my meal.

Fang didn't come back.

I waited about ten minutes more before I gently stood up and threw my sandwich box away keeping my drink in hand. I wondered what could be keeping him. Which would it be? Enemy mutants, M-Geeks, or Erasers? Maybe Ari would be making another appearance.

"Hey look, it's the queer whose been holding hands with that emo all day!" a voice snickered behind me as a crumpled food wrapper hit my head. Humans, I thought in disgust. Such closed minded people.

Distracted from the crude behavior of the humans I forgot to map out the layout of the floor in front of me. My foot caught empty air and my drink sloshed all over me, staining my old light blue shirt. The humans laughed, finding nothing funnier than a guy tripping down some stairs.

"Iggy!" Fang cried out, finally reappearing behind me, "I told you to wait at the food court."

I shrugged, "I thought you died or got kidnapped."

"That shouldn't matter. When you go off by yourself, you find trouble," Fang sighed and helped me up. He laid his jacket on my shoulders, "Wait here."

The next thing I know, Fang wasn't next to me anymore. I heard him stand next to the idiot boys who had harassed me.

"Don't you dare insult him again," he growled and I heard the boy whimper, "It doesn't matter if we're gay or blind or different. We could still kill you."

"Don't make the human piss himself," I sighed, pinching my nose, "He's going to have a heart attack if you don't back off."

There was the slapping sound of flesh on flesh before Fang receeeded. He slung his arm around my shoulders protectively and my heart thundered erratically.

"Fang, why are you doing this?" I asked in a whisper. I could never understand him. Was he trying to make a point for the human by pretending that he's gay?

"I'm very protective of you," he answered, the strangled sound coming back into his voice.

"I don't need protecting," I countered, sounding like a rebellious teenager, which I kind of was.

He laughed, "I know."

"Then why are you holding me?" I persisted. Pressed up against Fang's body, it was really hard for me to organize my thoughts, but I managed.

His hold on me tightened, and I gasped. Fang chuckled.

"Tell me that you don't want me to hold you like this," he ordered me, sounding full of himself. I stayed silent. That bastard was toying with me.

"Well?" he pushed. When I still didn't answer, he tilted my face up and I got blasted with that minty breath again. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.

"I don't want you to let go," I confessed. That was the only incentive that he needed.

"Then I never will," he whispered and his slightly chapped lips touched mine. The kiss was innocent and exploring, both of us inexperienced and way over our heads.

**BONUS SCENE!**

"So...they like each other," Max clarified, turning away from the two boys. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, seeing the love of her life kiss her brother figure.

"They love each other very much," Angel said warmly, "They're going to be together forever."

"You're going to be okay," Dylan put his arm around Max's waist, feeling happy that he'd get Max, but sad that she was upset.

"Gay guys are like, so sensitive!" Nudge bubbled ecstatically, "I've always wanted to have a gay friend!"

"You've known Iggy for your whole life," Gazzy rolled his eyes. Iggy was still the same person as he was yesterday and the day before that, he knew. Iggy was still his best friend, "Do you really think that he's miraculously turned sensitive in the last five minutes."

Nudge thought for a moment, rebuked, "You're right."

"Same old Iggy, same old Fang," Angel shrugged as she went to seperate the two, "No reason that I shouldn't ruin their little lovefest."


End file.
